


Moonlit

by mstni



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:06:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27817258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mstni/pseuds/mstni
Summary: When the mesmerising Moon rose, the sacred vow is being made.
Relationships: Ran Nagisa/Tenshouin Eichi
Kudos: 9





	Moonlit

**Author's Note:**

> written for my cutiepie who shares my love for nagiei! pls enjoy this extremely rare ship and the first fanfiction about them in the entire history  
> also the original language is russian so don't judge me for my translation struggles it was HARD fbvngvkigdhbfh first try writing smth in english

_“ Many solemn nights_

_Blond moon, we stand and marvel..._

_Sleeping our noons away. ”_

* * *

Like a marvelously cut gemstone, the Moon is shining through the carven metal rods on the windows. Tonight, only her shine reigns on a clear cloudless night sky, followed by the weak glare of the stars; of the stars, whose glare drifts through the deepest corners of the Universe, hundreds and thousands of years passing by. What mysteries do this planet keeps? What is hidden by its light, streaming so tranquilly?

Many sleepless nights, all of these questions consume the mind of a young man, who sits next by the window. Roughly filled up book pages, turned yellow with age a long time ago, rustles by light touches of his elegant fingers. Pale blue eyes flick from one line to another while reading some archaic text, seemingly so familiar and common to him. He puts the book on its place, previously inscribed some new notes, and then takes another one. From time to time, he gazes up into the sky, looks at little sparkles of different colors and size and corrects inscriptions written a few centuries ago. Words of astronomists, scholars, alchemists, whose names and memory passed away hundreds of years ago, as if they haven’t existed at all, and whose statements was proclaimed to be truthful despite being so insane, unbelievably naive theories. Phases of the planets replace each other, constellations change their place in the cosmos, stars die and rebirth... And why? What is the reason, the matter? All of it may seem to us really silly and foolishly, but that era is crucial for humanity’s dream to obtain absolute knowledge and fully comprehend that weird yet mysterious world. And how much young man is blissed by the realisation of the fact that he has hundreds of years to go, to obtain everything about the world around him. Hundreds of years living a life of an imitation of human being.

Velvety silence envelops thoughts tranquilly, serenely. Suddenly, it is being broken with screeching from an opening door and quiet footsteps sound. Golden light of the celestial body picks out a figure of a visitor, who have broke that absolute serenity, from the hall consumed into darkness. Even in nighttime he is unbelievable beautiful, with silk silver hair gently covering his shoulders. Even in nighttime ornaments covering his surcoat glitter with bright gleams; framed with cage of gold, garnet gemstone looks vivid more than ever, overflown with dazzling scarlet play of light, that brings out amber-colored eyes of its owner. Eyes of a human — a living being made of emotions and feeling weaving within the body of flesh and blood.

_— Your Majesty...?_

Answer is, surely, not necessary. Every full moon, in the same time, at the same place — more a habit, than a regular ritual.

* * *

For a long time, these two are the only ones to live in that mansion. His Majesty is the only heir of a noble and the richest family within this small town. Servant is just a hopeless, soulless doll, a homunculus, watching a world around him with dead eyes. An imitation of life. Created a long ago, as a result of the first successful alchemical practices, he became a perfect escort, who taugh the young earl all miracles of that world, together with that acquiring something brand new, something unusual for him — the nature of feelings.

A perfect servant always fullfills his duties. A perfect servant doesn't need rest or sleep. And, of course, a perfect servant won't reveal his owner's secrets of what happens in church of a moonlit castle.

* * *

In the stillness of night, as a deafening echo heels lightly thud on the cold floor. The temple room is located on the second floor in the left wing of the building, behind dozens of locks and closed doors, mazed by long corridors. Nobody besides heir is even allowed to know about the shrine, and even more so — to approach it. Golden patterns run along the masses of swing doors, intertwining, wrapping around wooden ledges and joining in a handle, as if it was a guard of a royal rapier. Opening, the door shows the ritual hall. The wall opposite from the floor to the ceiling is decorated with a stained glass window, created in the distant years by some great master, forgotten by now. The Fall, the gardens of earthly delights, creation and destruction brought together in the plot of one picture – truly, a work of art worthy of admiration for the Lord Himself.

The homunculus comes to the altar on the central pedestal, then, sitting on it, unbuttons his snow-white shirt and lies down. Such a familiar rite. Next is His Majesty. He takes a small bottle of scarlet liquid from a nearby table; facets, sharpened rock crystal of the rarest purity sparkle dazzlingly under the moonlight. The ritual blood, still so warm, flows down the young man's porcelain skin, spreading and blooming as a crimson flower. The touch of the Master's hand. Consolidation of the contract.

Moonlight penetrates through the windows of the stained glass, paints the hall in the most unimaginable colors, striking bright highlights on the figures of its visitors. Half an hour of waiting is enough for the Moon to accept this sacrifice and restore the terms of the contract.

The soulless doll looks around him with dead eyes.

The night rendesvouz has ended.


End file.
